Growing Together column: A mother's gratitude for sacrifice

Feb. 29, 2012

Written by

Chris Worthy, WNC Parent columnist

I am a hypocrite. The conversation makes this all too apparent. I love this country and try never to take for granted the immense privilege of my birth, knowing it is secured every day by the blood of men and women who fight to keep us safe.

But as I talk to a fellow mother about her sweet boy, the kid who loved his dog and played Frisbee and football, I say a silent prayer that I never know what she is feeling. Her baby — a grown man, for sure, but her baby nonetheless — died in the desert when a bomb blew up his humvee.

I want my boy to grow up and do something noble, but safe and here at home.

Her boy’s brave heart grew up quickly as he left his home school for the classroom and then went on to train for the career he had always wanted. The Frisbee in his hands was traded for an M-16, his South Carolina home left behind for a tour of duty in Afghanistan.

I catch my breath from the unfairness of it all. He was just a boy, really. I see his gangly teenaged smile and recognize it. I see it in the faces of my daughter’s friends and I see its beginnings in my own growing son.

Someone far away — someone else’s baby — welled with hatred or fear enough to piece together metal and wires that ended his life. It was a deliberate, murderous, unjustified act.

But this is war, boys. That’s what they say, right? This is war.

If I live to be 100, there are some things I won’t ever be able to understand. Standing among row after row of white crosses on a green hillside in France, I saw the reminders of those who never made it home. I could not count them or even see them all at once. In Arlington National Cemetery, the scene is the same. The graves hold those who died in wars we read about in history books and in wars we hear about in each day’s news.

God help us if we forget why we fight. And God help us if we have to keep doing it.

This mama’s heart breaks for you and for every mother who bears the cross you do. Mere words can never begin to ease your pain but words and prayers are all I have to offer.

Your son is a hero. He was brave and good and he made a difference in this world. When my children go to sleep at night, safe in their beds, I believe with my whole heart that he is part of what makes that possible.

But oh my, how I know you wish things were different.

The rest of us, those who have no concept of your pain, we owe you a debt of gratitude we can never, ever repay. Our thanks will never be enough.

Chris Worthy is an attorney who took down her shingle to be a stay-at-home mom. Contact her at chris@worthyplace.com.